


Symbols of Love

by PineTrain



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineTrain/pseuds/PineTrain





	Symbols of Love

Prompt given by [@starandtree](https://tmblr.co/mpzgHcO2xm8Smlu43jUUk4g)

——————

Dipper idly flipped through the pages of his favorite story on his phone. He didn’t even need to read the words to know what was written. The highlighted sections where he’d placed notes served as landmarks on a well-travelled trail. A full sentence highlighted in yellow two lines after a red highlighted word? The first murder. An entire page in blue? The climax.

He’d written these notes two decades ago. They were done by hand then, and he still had the ragged book that held them tucked away deep in his luggage. The poor thing probably wouldn’t last much longer if he kept flicking through it, so he’d purchased an electronic copy and transcribed every note as best as he could match to his teenage mind. He often pulled it up to scan through the story, enjoying the comfort of its familiarity, and he wanted to save the rare occasions he read the real thing for when he needed it most.

 

This was a special book, after all. He couldn’t just buy a new version and transcribe the handwritten notes like he’d done with the electronic one. Physical objects have so much more importance, more permanence, an essence that can’t easily be replaced. It was a gift to him, and even if someone bought him a new copy, the same in every way, it would never have that particular quality of being a birthday gift when he was 17. It had brought him so much comfort in the years that followed. It was something solid, consistent, a reminder that there was always someone who had his back.

Mabel had known it was his favorite book, so she bought him this second copy after his original was eaten by Gompers after he left it outside the Shack for a minute. He’d planned on simply buying a new one once they got home since the Gravity Falls bookstores didn’t carry it. He didn’t see a reason to pay for shipping to have it sooner, but there was something very special about the fact that Mabel had. That even though he could’ve bought it in a few days, she’d wanted to get it for him that much sooner. He had resolved to always keep this one safe.

He hadn’t had a crush on her quite yet, or maybe he had and just didn’t realize it. It was, after all, only two months later he found himself still awake past midnight, staring up at nothing, mind preoccupied with the girl across the hall. The book was a catalyst of some kind, regardless of whether it transformed brotherly love to romantic, or if it just made him realize the love hadn’t been quite so brotherly for a while already. In any case, he couldn’t help but begin stealing furtive glances at her when she wasn’t looking, admiring her in ways that weren’t like how he had before.

He’d always been jealous and a little bitter about her gregarious nature and how easy socializing came for her. Now, he enjoyed how peopled smiled so much more around her, the way she brightened everything. He’d often been annoyed by her tendency to bedazzle anything and everything. Now, he felt a smile creep to his face at the innocent and energetic effort to bring more color to the world. He had rolled his eyes when she attempted awkward, ostensibly sexy, poses in a bikini. Now, well, he was happy they were only ‘awkward’ to other guys and, suffice to say, other details don’t need to be mentioned.

He hadn’t dwelt on those more… unnatural… thoughts in a long time. The funny thing was, he’d only ever seen the physical desire as unnatural. That was all he’d ever really stressed over. He might get jealous when she dated another guy and hope she was jealous when he dated another girl, but he never questioned the oddity of wishing they were dating each other. Even that first night, that first revelation, it wasn’t any different from other times he realized he had a crush on a girl. He knew it was wrong and weird, but he didn’t believe it was wrong and weird. He could tell himself that it was until the hens came home, but he never could make himself feel like it was. But telling himself was fortunately enough to stop him from acting on it since there was the inevitable physical aspect of a relationship that was a bridge too far.

That was why the book was so much comfort. He’d been troubled a long time by his desire to be with her despite knowing that if he did act, he might never be with her in any facet should she be disgusted. He couldn’t get rid of these feelings by convincing himself, but he could temper them with a substitute, a symbol of her love. Deep love. But familial. So close, and yet so far to what he wanted.

Closer than the love he’d felt with his wife the last ten years. Perhaps the love he felt for his wife was so far, and yet so close, if that made any sense. They’d been fantastic friends in college, truly birds of a feather. Same likes, same dislikes. She was even a redhead, which had kinda been his thing for quite a while. He hadnt expected their relationship to go romantic, but one night they were watching a movie together in an empty common room and she kissed him. A switch flipped, and it felt right, so he kissed back.

They didn’t do anything more than kiss a couple times and awkwardly cuddle together on the couch. Whispering an embarrassed discussion, Dipper discovered that apparently there had been a betting pot amongst the dorm on how long it would take for them to get together and some girls had convinced her to make a move so they would win. She apologized for it, but he kissed her again and said he’d have to thank them later (pointedly ignoring the small crowd that had gathered outside the window, exchanging money).

The relationship was pretty much exactly what Dipper ever expected out of his first real, long-term one. Just a little later than anticipated. He kinda thought he’d have lost his virginity in high school, but he still got to have the romantic “losing it together” scenario since she hadn’t either. Most dates were great because they liked the same stuff. They had their differences, but they worked through them. In their senior year, they moved in together. She proposed to him before the year ended, winking as she said, “I started it, I’ll end it!”

Sitting here now, after receiving a more painful “ending it”, he wondered if that was part of what had attracted him to her. The way she pushed ahead, her choice of words, some mannerisms. She had so much in common with him, yet there was a bit of Mabel in her. A forwardness, a zest for life, not to the level of the real thing, but so warmingly similar. At the same time, so lacking.

It might’ve all been fake. On his end, at least, he didn’t know about her. Those first few years he hadn’t looked at the book, but it started to creep in more and more over time until it carried the overuse that now marred it. His girlfriend, wife, soon-to-be ex, had she always just been a placeholder? Something like the book, a symbol of the love he wanted but couldn’t have? He knew the answer was “No”, he truly had loved her once, but, as before, he didn’t believe it.

It wasn’t going to be a difficult divorce, legally. It was amicable. Just a matter of sorting out how things were divided. Not a difficult task since they’d both sorted things between them constantly over the course of the marriage. Perhaps in a few years they’d be friends again and this would just be some awkward joke. For now, it hurt, and he wasn’t entirely certain why.

He’d been about to bring divorce up himself. She’d simply saved him the pain of saying the words. There was still the deep sense of failure gnawing inside, but that didn’t quite feel like the right explanation of why he hurt either. He drifted his hand across the screen of his phone, wishing it were the actual pages. He sighed at the sudden realization the wish brought. It was that her marriage had failed, too.

The man had seemed so perfect for Mabel. Vivacious, wild, random. They played pranks together, usually screwing up when one brought a bucket of water and the other a whoopie cushion. They made art together, always interesting when they combined oil paint with chalk or some such combo. They completed each others sentences, except when they didn’t, the other even happier with the second’s ending than they were with their own. It was like honey on a sour pop, an idea that vaguely makes sense, but most people would immediately regret except these particular two.

The metaphor felt off to Dipper, somehow, as if it sort of made sense, but in the end, didn’t. He might just not be good at understanding his sister’s marriage, or maybe he understood it perfectly. They’d seemed perfect together just as everyone thought he and his wife had, and now they were both in the middle of divorces. So far, and yet so close. The similarity of personality being just a bit too much and overwhelming the small bit of difference that attracted you to them in the first place.

It wasn’t how much his wife was like him that made him marry her. It was how she had that hint of Mabel. The screen went black from lack of attention and he tapped it again to bring back the story. This hint of Mabel in his hands. The real deal that was stepping off the plane to meet him as they both moved back in with their parents for the time being.

Dipper slipped the phone in his pocket and stood to greet her. She looked deep in thought as she came closer. A ratty plush pig was clutched tightly to her chest, an odd sight for a woman in her 30s. He’d given that her on their 17th birthday and time hadn’t been kind to the poor thing.

She eventually stopped, shook her head a little, then looked around. Noticing him, their eyes met and she squeezed the plushie before smiling sadly. He returned it, a mutual understanding of why they were there passing between them.

They approached ànd stood silently a few moments, just looking at each other. Dipper broke the gaze to glance at the plushie, noticing her squeeze it a bit tighter. He looked back up at her eyes, glazing with the same tears he felt. For once, he knew something something was true and he believed it, too.


End file.
